What My Toddler Taught Me About Beauty

My sweet two year old was blessed with these stunning curly locks. Everywhere we go people stop to comment on how beautiful they are. I am equally infatuated with these curls that seem to have a mind of their own. In the summer they tighten up to five tiny ringlets on the back of her head, especially after swimming. In the winter they let loose a little and flow down her back.

Even my best friends will ask me “where does she get the curls?” Almost insulted that they didn’t realize it came from me, I quickly put them in their place, pointing out the wavy kinks at the back of my head. Here’s what is ironic, I have LOATHED those kinks for the last 20-some-odd years. They have been my nemesis as I’ve used every straightener, serum, and gel you can imagine to get my waves to lay flat. Suddenly, while looking at my daughter, it dawned on me that perhaps my kinks are actually beautiful?!? My daughter’s curls are perhaps my favorite part of her darling physical features and yet I’ve spent so many hours trying to disguise these waves that even my closest friends didn’t know they exist.

As I pushed Annie and my over-sized loot through Costco last week a nice, wise, older gentleman gushed over her luscious curls. He didn’t know it but his soft words struck me, “She will likely hate those curls one day but just remind her of how beautiful they really are.” Although he was talking about my toddler, I couldn’t help but feel that he was actually reminding me. It was as if he could see right through me to see my mounds of negative thoughts about my “kinks” whether it’s my curls, my waistline, my round face….and here I go again.

Lately, I have felt the weight of raising a girl in this crazy world of high expectations, thigh gaps and perfectly posed selfies. But what scares me the most is that what will really shape her body image isn’t what her friends say, it’s what her mother says. When I look at my daughter I see absolute beauty. I am obsessed with every curl in her hair, dimple in her leg and the way her smile matches mine. If only we could all see our beauty through our Mothers eyes. My daughter’s beauty has taught me to love my own toothy smile, kinky hair and dimples in my legs. Thank you Annie!